


He's a Little Tied Up Right Now

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House, DC Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Casual mention of the Peter/Tate/Barry polygamous relationship, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multi, Sensory Deprivation, Smut, Teasing, This is just pure smut ok, dO NOT ASK ABOUT THE SHIP I DONT WANNA EXPLAIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8202031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Hahhh...T-tate? Is that you?” Peter gasped, bucking his hips upward as Tate sucked on the head of his dick.“No, dipshit, it’s the blowjob fairy.” He snickered, nipping his hipbone playfully and scattering sparks of heat up his spine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is just a shameless pun lmao. I swear, I'm going to get back to HF and shit soon, but for now? Enjoy whatever the fuck this is ;)

“This is stupid.” Peter mumbled, pulling his shirt over his head and wriggling back into Tate’s lap.  
“C’mon, sweetheart, you’ll love it.” Tate said, kissing his shoulder and pulling his arms together behind his back.  
“Mmhm.”  
“And hey- even if you don’t like the...experimental parts, you always enjoy having me all yourself, right, babe?”  
Peter rolled his eyes shifted a bit, testing the silk ropes being looped around his forearms, wrists and neck and earning himself a smack on the head.  
“Ow- hey!”  
“Quit squirming, you’ll have plenty of time to writhe around one we get started.” He abruptly stopped moving- much to Tate’s amusement- and held almost obediently still as he tied intricate knot patterns into the ropes.  
“Why d’ya have to tie so many? This is bondage, not macrame-” Tate jerked the last knot tight one Peter’s forearm tight, and he twitched his hips and let out a yelp that was just a little too breathy.  
“I want you to look real good for me, baby. Like a pretty little present.” he visibly blushed at his words, then tried to hide it under another snark.  
“Isn’t the point that I won’t be able to see how I look-” Tate interrupted him with a raised eyebrow and another jerk on the ropes.  
“Didn’t you hear me? I said this is for me.” Tate growled, nipping lightly on Peter’s ear.  
he blushed even harder and twisted his wrists experimentally in the binds, gasping as Tate suddenly tied a black blindfold that totally cut out all light over his eyes.  
“Let’s get started, shall we, babe?” he said smoothly. Peter nodded frantically, earlier surliness forgotten as soon as the blindfold touched his face, and attempted to lean back onto his chest- only to look like an idiot when he fell backwards and his skull clunked against the headboard.  
“Tate? Where the fuck did’ja go?” he asked a little warily, wriggling around a bit like a fish, trying to get back to his original knees-apart sitting position. Tate chuckled from what sounded like they end of the bed.  
“I was right, you look so pretty like this. I bet you’d look better wreaked, though.” he said, his sugared words dripping with the promise of pleasure and outlined in the barest hint of a threat. Based on past experiences, he was either going to ravage Peter or treat him like glass until he shattered in his hands. he swallowed hard when he heard the bed creak as Tate crawled towards him, felt his fingers barely graze across his cheekbones and down his neck. he trailed his way across his chest and torso, barely even touching him but still setting little fires under his skin, and Peter had to restrain a whine as those teasing fingertips ghosted over his v-lines and brushed for an instant in between his legs before stroking down his thigh.  
“Look at you, you’re such a slut.”  
His breath abruptly caught in his throat, he nearly let out a groan just at Tate’s choice of words and the hand caressing his thigh, he felt like he was melting already.  
“Such a damn slut. Already hard and leaking just from me tying you up, I wonder how messy you’d be if I fucked you right here and now?” Tate hissed in his ear, and Peter did let out a low groan.  
“Fuck- I’d be such a mess, such a slut for you, please do-” he laughed low in his throat and ran a finger through the dripping precum coating the head of his cock. Peter wasn’t expecting the sudden light touch- how could he? The blindfold worked- and he swore and bucked his hips, trying to get from that one bit of contact, but Tate had already removed his hand and was laughing at him again.  
Half and instant later he was back at it, this time planting feather-light open-mouth kisses up and down Peter’s stomach, making sure to linger an extra moment in places they both knew he’d left purpling bruises from the last time they’d been intimate.  
Peter tried to lean into his kisses, tried to get Tate to just fucking actually touch him, because he was losing his damn mind already. he just wanted to grab him so hard it left marks that lasted for days, but the ropes held fast no matter how much he twisted and pulled. Tate seemed to notice his mounting desperation and squirming- either that or he was secretly a telepath- and pressed a solid kiss on his mouth, but pulled off and left him chasing his lips.  
“I was in boy scouts for five years, babe. You’re not gonna get out of those easily.”  
“Glad to know you’re using your training for evil- Ah! Fuck- nnn- do that again-” Peter gasped, voice cracking and shaky as he slid his hand up his length, the touch light enough to not do much, but he was practically touch-starved at this point so he’d take what he could get. He couldn’t stay still, he was nearly thrusting into the empty air at every one of Tate’s touches, he- he just couldn’t take this, it was too much- fuck. He’d stopped touching him. Had he said that out loud?  
“Well, if it’s too much, maybe I should give you a break, hmm?” Tate said smoothly. He snapped his head snapped up from where it’d been resting and sputtered indignantly, shaking his head.  
“No, what the fuck- you have to keep going, I might actually die.” Peter said, straining to reach out a feel for him, but Tate sounded like he was on the other side of the room when he responded. How’d that fucker move so quietly?  
“Oh, so I have to keep going now?” He asked mock-offendedly.  
“C-mon Tate please- don’t be an ass-”  
“Yeah, well, now I feel like going for a walk, maybe talk to Barry for a while. Have fun~”  
Peter moaned brokenly, his chest heaving with every panting breath he took. He was a picture of desperation and lust, his head once more thrown back on the headboard to expose his bound, hickey-covered neck and the ropes leaving red marks that Tate hoped would leave bruises in the pattern of the knots he’d tied. It’d leave a nice reminder for later. He almost felt a twinge of regret leaving him like this- not because he was in obvious discomfort, but because he was very tempted just to give up his diabolical plan of teasing him until he broke and fuck him here and now. Tate smirked, gave Peter a friendly pat on the cheek that caused him to let out a little whimper, and waltzed out the door, pausing briefly in the doorway to shoot a winning smile over his shoulder.  
“One last thing. If I come back and you’re out of the ropes? I’ll tie you up again and leave you all night. Toodles~!”  
Peter glared at him through the blindfold, listening to him locking the door and walking away whistling. He slumped back onto the bed as soon as he couldn’t hear Tate anymore and wondered if he could maybe flip over and grind on the sheets to get some relief without blindly falling off the bed. Not likely. He was fucking painfully hard and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.  
•••••

 

Barry barely glanced up from the scattered chaos of paper and multicolor notebooks that were strewn around where he was seated at the dinner table when Tate plopped down next to him, slung an arm around his shoulder, and kissed him on the cheek. He hummed quietly at the contact and leaned into his embrace, pulling a notebook closer and re-immersing himself in his work.  
“Not gonna ask where Peter is?” Tate asked, his voice exceedingly more smug than usual. Not even phased, Barry nudged him and rolled his eyes exasperatedly.  
“I’m guessing you did something horrible to him, otherwise you wouldn’t sound so full of yourself,” Tate made an offended noise, “He is in one piece, right? He’s my boyfriend too- we're kinda required to love him.” He continued sarcastically, ignoring the full-force scandalized pout Tate was directing at him and scribbling something down in his notebook.  
“I’m shocked you think so little of me, baby boy.” He stiffened slightly at the use of ‘baby boy’ but quickly recovered, shoving his nose deeper in his notebook and pretending he wasn’t blushing.  
“He’s perfectly fine, just a little… tied up right now.” Tate said, grinning wolfishly and practically wink-wink-nudging Barry he was being so obvious.  
“As long as he’s not scarred for life.”  
“Never! Need some help with those notes?”  
•••••  
It turned out that Tate was a mastermind after all- by the time he got back to the room, Peter had crumbled into an absolutely perfect, pitiful mess.  
He was whimpering and moaning softly, his breath coming in short little gasps. There was sweat slicking his flushed, trembling skin, there was a line of blood-tinged drool running down his chin from his bleeding lip- it looked as if he’s chewed on it hard enough to break the skin- and his cock was just begging to be licked, fucking dripping with precum and obviously as hard as a rock.  
He looked almost more gorgeous than Tate had ever seen him, and when he walked in and saw that, Peter melting into the sheets just for him, his breath caught.  
And caught again.  
He realized two things; one, this was a damn fantastic idea, why the hell hadn’t he thought of it earlier, and two, he really needed to fuck Peter as soon as possible.  
He calmy- well ,as calmly as possible, given the situation- re-locked the door behind him and walked over to the bed, shucking his clothes off as he went until he was naked in between Peter’s legs and licking a long stripe up his length.  
Peter shouted hoarsely at the feeling, arching his back as his entire body shuddered. God, he was loud, and it was more satisfying than anything for Tate to know he was the one who was making him produce those deliciously needy noises, that this stunning human disaster belonged to him.  
“Hahhh...T-tate? Is that you?” Peter gasped, bucking his hips upward as Tate sucked on the head of his dick.  
“No, dipshit, it’s the blowjob fairy.” He snickered, nipping his hipbone playfully and scattering sparks of heat up his spine.  
“Fuck, you're a goddamn masterpiece like this, my masterpiece. Want me to tear you open? Want me to paint your ruby lips? Don't you want to swallow me down? Wanna beg me with tears in your eyes because you're really that hungry for Daddy's cock?" Tate cooed, breath heavy against Peter's dick.  
Peter hissed at the words, his cock throbbing further, twitching visibly in front of Tate.  
"Yes...daddy," Peter gasped out, his words as liquidly as he was, dripping with sugary sweet lust, "I want daddy's cock."  
His voice was so broken, so utterly destroyed, Tate loved it.  
Tate ghosted his tongue in a stripe up Peter's thigh, just dangerously close to an actual touch, Peter gasping as he did so.  
Tate moved with the smooth agility of a snake charming its prey until he was straddling Peter's hips, grinding down with a intoxicating pressure.  
Tate slid his hands up Peter's neck until he rested them on his face, thumbs plucking at his ruby red lips, swollen and dripping red tinted drool.  
Peter's tongue went chasing out to touch Tate's thumb, wanting nothing more than contact and taste.  
"Are you imagining that's Daddy's cock? Are you really that needy?" Tate whispered, his tone low and gravely, lips only inches away from Peter's but the blindfold kept him from knowing it.  
Peter nodded frantically, pushing into the touch, it was the most he'd gotten in what felt like ages.  
"Oh if only the people who look up to the fantastic Quicksilver could see you right now. You're a complete and utter fucking mess under me. Think of all those people who are jealous of what's mine." Tate said with that deadly sweet antifreeze tone again.  
He held Peter's head in place so he could suckle hickeys down Peter's neck ferociously like an animal taking the first bite of its newly claimed prey.  
Oh how Peter writhed so, needing that touch more than what seemed like oxygen.  
"T-ATE! Fuck...oh my god..." Peter called out, struggling against the ropes further.  
Tate pulled back from the sweat-slick skin, proudly eyeing the proud purple bite mark there.  
"Such a good boy. Good, good, good boy. Daddy's pretty little boy, isn't that right?" Tate cooed in his snake charmer way.  
Before Peter could agree, Tate's hands drifted further back to get a firm hold of Peter's head, pulling him by the hair into the empty space, closing the gap.  
It was a kiss, nothing more than a kiss, but Peter was shaking, his noises high and breathy, he was fucking needy.  
The kiss escalated, there was a sliding of tongues, the occasional bite, it became too much too quickly for Peter, Tate decided.  
Tate pulled back from the kiss, their lips parting making a lewd sound, his breath heavy and hot against Peter's, lips still in a grass stock's length away.  
Peter whined at the loss of touch, grinding up into Tate. He felt like lightning stuck him and he was now convulsing, thrusting almost.  
Tate with the same agility of before returned to his spot between Peter's thighs, grabbing the bottle of lube he left on the bed post and slicking three fingers with a shaking hand.  
Without warning he thrust his first finger into Peter, a flat out shout came from Peter above.  
The pleasure pain became more of pain when Tate twisted his finger, before quickly becoming a flame and burn of a different find, one that caused his toes to curl and his head to rock side to side as he called out.  
Tate thrust his finger in and out with a sadistic delight, watching Peter's back arch and chest heave. His black eyes trailed hungrily over the flesh and rope it was straining against, he could already see the deep red marks it had caused.  
It was a spiderweb design, prettily wrapped like the shiniest present on Tate's birthday.  
Maybe Tate would wrap Peter up again for his birthday, he did make an awful sweet treat.  
Peter could tell Tate was avoiding that little bundle of nerves that drove him up the goddamn wall like an animal.  
With no signal again Tate added the second finger, not full for Peter but enough to start that feeling.  
Peter responded with a howl, slamming his body back down like he was possessed, helpless in his actions.  
Tate crooked his fingers, Peter writhing and cried out in neediness.  
Tate added his third finger and Peter felt full, he didn't know how much he truly loved that feeling until that moment, he felt like he would have died without it.  
Tate wriggled his fingers around just enough for Peter to be stretched before he pulled out, Peter sobbing in return.  
"Please!" Peter cried out in a broken tone "Daddy please!"  
Tate chuckled darkly, he did love that word coming out of Peter's mouth and in such a fashion as it did.  
Tate lined up, his hands resting on Peter's hips -Peter being so goddamn needy he even whined at that- and slowly, torturously, inch by painfully delayed inch thrust in.  
Peter would have been clawing at Tate's back if not for the restraints, so it left him rolling and squirming uncontrollably under Tate.  
Tate could feel Peter clench against him, rocking down onto him for sweet friction that sent white flames licking through both of them.  
Tate rolled his hips in and out, gentle like Peter would break, hissing lightly under his own breath as he did so, still trying to control himself from pounding Peter into the mattress.  
Sweat rolled down Peter's forehead as he continued to chew his lower lip raw, moaning as Tate carefully thrust back into him.  
Peter felt like a caged animal, throwing himself about, trying to get what he needed from Tate but Tate wouldn't let him have it.  
"Please- Tate- I want you to-ah!- harder!" Peter sobbed, curling his legs up into his chest for a better position for Tate to go harder  
"Want it? Or need it?" Tate hissed, dangerously close to Peter's ear  
"Need it! Please!"  
Tate bit down hard onto Peter's ear with no warning, hands gripping tighter at his sides.  
"God, you're such a perfect little slut for me. You'd do anything I wanted you to, wouldn't you? You'd worship at my feet if I felt so inclined to push you down. Well, good news, baby, I'm your God- and you're the pretty little bound sacrifice. You want me to eat your heart?" Tate growled, fucking growled goddamn it, his voice so low, so gravely, Peter let out a scream.  
An unexpected hand snatched Peter's jaw and brought him into a harsh kiss greeted by teeth.  
He abruptly shoved Peter back onto the bed away from him and without warning flipped them so Peter was straddling Tate's lap, disoriented and gasping.  
"If you're that needy of a slut you can ride Daddy as hard as you like." Tate purred lowly, his voice smooth like velvet.  
Peter wasted no time lifting himself up and slamming himself back down with reckless abandon, breathy sounds slipping through his bit lip that clamped his mouth shut.  
The glide of skin on skin made Peter feel like he was in the deepest part of the ocean begging to get a breath, while Tate was sky high, hypersensitive to his surrounding.  
So full, so needy, so ripe, the way Peter loved.  
He thrust Tate back into himself as he dropped down again, tilting his hips to get that perfect whine from Tate.  
Peter did so he was bouncing on Tate's cock, hitting his prostate over and over and over again.  
Tate threw one arm above his head and cursed, he was so glad he waited.  
"Fuck-daddy-I-AH" Peter sputtered, unable to even speak the pleasure shorting out his mind.  
Peter was screaming at this point, he couldn't help it, he really couldn't.  
He tightened on Tate for a second before he was spilling all over them, leaving pretty little strings.  
Tate grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head into Peter's shoulder as he came into Peter with a long and breathy moan.  
They stayed like that for a while, intertwined with each other before Peter was completely spent and just wanted to cuddle.  
He was completely limp, Tate rolled him on his back with ease, no words involved yet.  
"You did so well." Tate praised as he began loosening and untying the knots that bound him.  
Bruises were starting to form in places Peter strained more on the ropes, his wrists, for instance, had blue and purple lines like a delicate bracelet.  
The evening light flooded in gently despite the closed curtains, drawing shadows across the floor as Tate moved to the head of the bed.  
He lastly removed the blindfold from around Peter's eyes, smiling when his wide eyes blinked up at him.  
"Heya gorgeous." Tate murmured before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead "You did so well."  
"What a tragic thing you're the first thing I see," Peter jested with a wide smile,"Go bring me my clothes, ghost boy, I'm tired."  
Tate made a fake sigh and a show of him raising his arms over his head in exasperation but nonetheless he went and got their clothes.  
Peter nodded and rolled over smiling sweetly.  
After that the night wound down quickly, Tate got his pj's on and let Peter borrow one of his sweaters to cuddle with him in as they both waited for Barry.  
Peter just loved listening to Tate breathe, calming and steady like waves of the ocean. He had gained enough energy back to speak again but not move around unless necessary, he was sore and cuddling with Tate in post afterglow, his favorite place to be.  
When Barry arrived he plopped down on the bed and wriggled over enough to be spooned by Peter.  
They laid together in silence until one by one they all fell asleep, secure, safe and loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Im not even going to make up excuses for my absurd crossover ships anymore


End file.
